Riddle Me This
by Platinum Express
Summary: ‘You will tell me now, Hermione Granger, where you got that ring from,’ he said, and at that moment she felt a prick of pressure on her waist, and knew that it was his wand. Rated M for a reason. RiddleHermione.


**This story takes off a month after the downfall of Voldemort. Hope you like it! And **_**please**_** review, it's really encouraging!**

**CHAPTER 1**

Hermione idly twisted a strand of dark brown hair between her fingers, as she leaned back on her chair and contemplated over what she had just seen. She was sitting on one of the comfortable burgundy armchairs, in the Headmaster's- or, as at present Headmistress's- office in Hogwarts, and although she was staring at the spindly silver instruments that she was sure were beyond the understanding of its current occupant, her mind was completely and absolutely elsewhere. 

Minerva McGonagall was normally a careful person, but on this occasion she closed the small cupboard she was putting the basin into with a sharp snap, and Hermione knew that she was not at ease. She had been most unwilling, in fact, to allow her to handle the basin and the little bottles that had taken her hours and hours to sort out. 

She had wanted to do this on her own, but her ex-Professor had been adamantly against it.

'I'd rather if I was with you,' she said, firmly. 'I won't come into the Pensive, of course. But I'm not leaving you alone.'

Even as she had said this, Hermione had noted the profound disapproval in her voice. Minerva McGonagall did not believe in stirring things that she felt should be left to quietly slumber. Nor did she believe in prodding memories that were best forgotten. In her opinion, watching all the memories that Dumbledore had shown to Harry was a painful waste of time.

The disapproval still lingered now, as she shut the basin away and turned to Hermione, surveying her sternly.

'I can't see what you gained by that,' she said, severely. 'Are you feeling all right?'

'I'm fine,' Hermione assured her. 'Just fine. Honestly.'

'It was a remarkably strange thing to do, Ms. Granger.'

'I wanted to, Professor.'

'You must be so disturbed.'

'No, I'm not really,' Hermione said, 'Harry already told me all about it. I just wanted to see for myself.'

Professor McGonagall sniffed, but said no more. She understood that Hermione would rather dwell on her own thoughts at present. She waited in silence for a few minutes, while Hermione continued to gaze absently at the silver instruments, and then said, 'Ms. Granger- if you want to spend the night here-.'

'What?' Hermione started. 'Oh- yes, Professor, I would really like that.'

'You can take your old bed,' McGonagall said, kindly. 'It's still the summer; none of the students are back. And I doubt many will come back,' she said, her face clouding over a little. 'Given the battle that occurred just a month ago- and we still have repairs to do, remove dark spells- however-' her nostrils flared slightly. 'That is beside the point. Thank you, Ms. Granger.'

Hermione recognized the tentative dismissal and smiled at her professor. The thought of slipping into her old bed- safe, warm- was comforting. But before that-

'I would like to visit Hagrid, first,' Hermione said. 'I haven't seem him since- well, you know-'

Professor McGonagall nodded. As Hermione began to climb down the stairs, she heard the older woman call after her.

'Please be careful, Ms. Granger. Nobody wants to be lulled into a false sense of security.'

_No indeed_, thought Hermione and walked down corridors that were delightfully familiar to her. She had begun to place much more value on familiarity after their constant elusion during the previous year.

Her mind was still on the chain on memories that Dumbledore had shown Harry.

_A cracked ring._

Hermione had always been a remarkably curious person; hence her desire to go through Dumbledore's pensive. She would have preferred to have been alone in the office. It would have given her the time she needed to carefully go through each bottle, notice the details, recognize the familiar- these were habits she thrived on.

Not surprisingly, Harry had been prodded by that part of her nature that never left things to rest. She had coaxed and cajoled him into creating his own Pensive. It had taken time and effort, especially because Harry did not want to relive most of the memories, but Hermione felt it had been worth it. She had all of his thoughts, silvery but firm, in little bottles that she kept in her school satchel- pure habit had forced her to carry it with her now as well.

Besides, she didn't want Harry's thoughts to be left uncared for. They were precious, and quite astounding really. They even included the moments that he and Voldemort had shared minds- she had seen break into Dumbledore's tomb, she had seen him cry with fury when he realized that his Horcruxes were being targeted, the anger when he saw that the little gold box hidden in the Gaunt Shack was empty-

Yes, Harry's thoughts were much too precious. No matter where she went, she must keep them with her.

_A little gold box_.

Empty.

Hagrid's hut was empty. 

Hermione spent five minutes scratching Fang, as he drooled luxuriously on her palm, and then glanced around the hut. The fire was lit, and a pot of stew was bubbling over it. She quickly dipped her finger into it and licked- almost done. Hagrid should be back soon.

She glanced out of the window, and saw the path that led away from his cabin, straight into the clearing where he was once shown them Hippogriffs. Beyond that was the Forbidden Forest. 

He was there, obviously. Probably with Grawp.

She found one of his old coats before going outside. The sky was swirling with clouds, and she could smell the distinct tang of rain in the air. The coat drug down to her legs and pooled by her feet. It had a fur hood that flopped down past her eyes. Pulling it on over herself and her satchel, with their precious bottles in them, she gripped her wand and headed out of the cabin, down the same path.

As she walked, it struck Hermione how funny she must have been looking, with the long brown coat and sable hood. She was glad she had worn it though, as she began to feel light raindrops on her palms. Hastily, she pulled the hood over her head, and held it up with her hands to prevent it from falling over her eyes. Hagrid must be around here somewhere.

The Forest floor was littered with leaves, and then rustled wetly beneath her feet as she trod on them. The air smelt cool and refreshing, and for the first time Hermione realized that she was not scared of this forest. She had gone past that fear a month back, and the forest was like home now. She knew what the Centaurs were like, knew they would leave her alone, she knew about Grawp…

A bolt of lightening flashed in the sky, and momentarily illuminated everything around her. Hermione stopped, a little concerned. Lost in her thoughts, she had not really paid attention to where she was going. But this, she recognized was the same path that she and Harry had trudged with Umbridge a few years back. She was about to keep walking, when another flash of lightening split the sky. The ground around her was thrown into harsh highlight, and suddenly she caught sight of a gleam of metal under a wet leaf.

Curious, Hermione walked towards it. She bent down and pushed the leaf away. Picking it up- it was cold and metallic in her hand- she held up the sable hood with one hand and scrutinized it.

And then, with a gasp, she recognized it.

As Hermione held the Stone, the Ring, the Horcrux- everything that it was in her hand, she had only one thought at the forefront of her mind. 

She had to hide it.

Harry had dropped it, and it was supposed to have remained hidden. That had been his intention. That was what the portrait- Dumbledore's portrait- had felt would be best. And now, she had stumbled upon it and picked it up, and she knew that the consequences would be disastrous.

She glanced around her, worried that someone might be there, but the forest was dark and empty. Taking a deep breath, and closing her eyes, Hermione tried to calm herself. She had to hide the Stone. But _how?_

The answer came to her in a shining moment of revelation.

Her eyes snapped back open, filled with excitement. Silently, she slipped the ring into the coat pocket, and cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself. It wouldn't do to have anybody- _anybody_- see her now.

She began to hurry back to the Castle. When she had crossed Hagrid's hut, she suddenly lost patience and began to run.

As she thundered down a corridor that was distinctly familiar, Hermione slowed to a stop beside a tapestry of trolls. She was still disillusioned, but it didn't matter because there weren't any students or teachers in this part of the school anyway. She was also dripping wet. It had begun to pour as she raced towards the castle, and now her hair hung limply over the sable hood.

She strode up and down the corridor, muttering fiercely.

_I need the place to hide this, I need a place where it can be hidden, I need the room-_

And the room appeared. It was her third turn, and Hermione breathed a sigh of a relief as she saw the inviting doorway. Glancing around to make sure that nobody was around, she opened it and stepped on.

Hermione had seen this room before, in Harry's memories. That was the only reason she didn't gasp with shock. It was larger than any house she had been in, and more secret than even the Chamber. Now, however, her thoughts were entirely occupied by the ring. She glanced around desperately, and then decided to hide it somewhere near where they had found the tiara, being familiar with that area.

She was walking down the aisle to the cabinet, when she realized that this was not enough.

People could still get in, she realized. She had, Harry and Ron had- countless of people who had hidden all these things-

The ring could be found any time.

Making up her mind, she bit her lip and closed her eyes, willing the room to obey her once more.

_I want-_

She stopped.

What _did_ she want? How could she make sure it was never, _ever_ found again?

There was only way. She had to leave it to the Room- the Room would have to decide.

_I want this ring to go back where it should be._

_I want it to be where it belongs._

_Where it belongs._

She opened her eyes.

Hermione's first impression was that the room had not changed at all.

She frowned. Did this mean that the room considered the ring safest over here? She eyed the nearest pile of junk suspiciously, and then suddenly noticed that it looked considerably smaller.

Hermione glanced around. To her shock, it seemed that the walls of hidden things on each side of her, and all over the room had shortened, as if some of the items had simply vanished. She blinked. A lot more sunlight was filtering into the room- though from where, she did not know- and her shadow was thrown sharply against the Vanishing Cabinet. She glanced around, wondering where to hide the ring.

Suddenly, she began to feel uneasy. She glanced around again, and then checked that she was still disillusioned, before abruptly turning her back to the Cabinet, and heading towards the door. But somehow, it seemed as though some of the piles had shifted, and were arranged differently, because the door wasn't where it had been earlier. After a few wrong turns (she could have sworn this wasn't the way) she saw it, and heaved a sigh of relief. The room was disturbing her greatly.

Breaking into a run, she ran forward and yanked open the door.

Hermione stared in shock.

The corridor was not empty anymore. Rather, it was bustling with students, all in Hogwarts robes, who were holding books and laughing amongst themselves. Two boys, who couldn't have been more than first years, were pointing at the tapestry of Barnabas and laughing. If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn that the bell had just rung, and they were all headed to their classes.

But she did know better.

As if to disprove her last thought, a girl walking past her said, 'We better hurry Florence, or Merrythought's going to put us in detention.'

Hermione blinked. Merrythought- where had she heard that name before.

'I'm coming, I'm coming,' Florence said, quickly. 

Dumbstruck, Hermione turned away from them and caught sight of the two boys near the tapestry.

One said, 'Do you think the trolls killed him?'

'Nah, they were too busy dancing.'

'They might have killed him after that.'

'Blimey, he really was barmy!'

'What the-'

Hermione wondered for a moment why none of the students had turned to look at the strange girl, standing at the doorway of the room in a black coat that dragged past her feet. Then she remembered that she was disillusioned, and that there was a great possibility that the door was currently invisible to them. Shaking her head slightly, as if to get rid of water in her ears, her eyes widened and she took a step backward, and then another. Before she knew it, she had thrown herself into the room and slammed the door shut.

Hermione did not know why these strange children- who really shouldn't be here- had disturbed her so much.

'I'm dreaming,' she whispered.

But what was wrong? Where had she heard the name Merrythought before?

She screwed her eyes shut.

_I can't gt out there, I can't go-_

She sensed magical activity around her, and opening her eyes, saw that the room had shifted. It was smaller now, lit by a dim lamp, with a bed in the centre. Without even thinking, Hermione threw the brown coat off her shoulders, and threw herself onto the bed.

When Hermione woke up, she had no idea what time it was, but she suddenly knew what had happened.

It was as though her mind had worked while she slept, fitting cunning pieces into a jigsaw puzzle that she hadn't noticed earlier. Little bits and pieces came flying to her mind, and formed a shining answer as she rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed.

She had somehow gone back in time.

As she thought that, she almost laughed, but she knew she wasn't wrong. There was something clear and lucid about that solution.

The piles were smaller, because there were less hidden things. The rest would be filled in, in the years to come.

Merrythought- she knew where she had heard that name before. He had been a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, years and years ago. She touched her satchel, which she had tossed onto the floor with her coat. There was a bottle in there of memories- the one that focused on Slughorn's little party- when his memory had cropped up.

Which meant that she had gone some fifty years back in time.

The question was, _why?_

Hermione frowned and tried to concentrate. No doubt this had something to do with the room. She had asked it to send her to the place that the ring really belonged, and it had sent her here.

Why?

Because it had a twisted sense of humor, that's why.

Hermione sighed, and slipped out of the bed. It was warm and comfortable, but she knew she couldn't stay in here forever. She wanted to go out and get some answers. She walked quietly to the door and pushed it open a crack, peering outside.

The corridor was absolutely deserted. She glanced along its length and saw a large window, through which moonshine was flowing onto the stone floor. The castle was silent, and incredibly cold.

If she had gone back in time, it was not necessarily summer, was it?

Thankful that she at least had Hagrid's coat (although wincing as she remembered how she looked in it) Hermione closed the door again, and went back to the bed. She picked up her satchel, and strapped it over her shoulder. The large coat went over her, satchel and all, and she pushed back the sable hood so that she could see properly. She slipped her hand into the pocket- the ring was still there.

Holding her wand tightly in her right hand, she pushed the door open and stepped out.

Hermione wasn't sure where she wanted to go. She had no idea how much time had elapsed precisely, and did not know a soul in the school, except perhaps Dumbledore- and maybe Slughorn, if he was teaching. She highly doubted however that she could visit either of them at this time of the night.

Her instinct told her to go the Library.

The thought of going to the Library comforted her, and she reminded herself that she could look around in the books to find out how to reverse time travel. Glancing around her nervously, she gripped her wand tighter and set off down the corridor. 


End file.
